A Good Bad Guy
by EvilSpiritOfDoom
Summary: We all know the perspective of the heroes of our story, but what about that of a villain? Rated M for Language and Violence.
1. Arrival

A Good Bad Guy

A Ghost in the Shell Fanfiction

Chapter 1: Arrival

**NOTE: I DON'T OWN GitS OR ANYTHING OF THE LIKE!**

The move might have been a tedious and infuriating one, but nothing I couldn't handle. It was when I landed I had to deal with the fresh bullshit. After the plane landed, a huge horde of people crowded around us; some cops and some press. A few of my fellow passengers got into a fight with these guys, but ended up being taken away. Kinda funny watching it, though. The press and the cops mobbed us since they didn't see any Americans in some time, let alone a plane filled with them.

Another thing I found disturbing was all the helicopters covering the skies. It gave the odd feel as though the entire country was readying up for some sort of war. I don't know why, but it's bone-chilling. Maybe it was because I was in war? It's kinda hard not to let it bug me everytime I look outdoors, seeing at least a squadron of choppers flying pass whatever building I'd be in. And the constant shooting from those Section 9 guys gives me the creeps as well. If I were walking around on the streets and I heard one of those POP from a gun, I'd be shitting myself.

I didn't expect that going here would be so different than what it was seen on TV. Armed police units were all over the place, helicopters shone brightly pass everything, killing sleep, it was kinda depressing. I could have gone anywhere in the world that I wanted to, so I picked here. There were two things about this place I thought. One: I thought that it would end up much happier. Two: it felt like something in my heart dragged me here.

Now that I'm here, I need to do something with my new life. Maybe rent an appartment, get a job, or see what the hell is wrong with this place. So onward to my first plan: a job. There's no way in hell that I plan to work for Section 9 or anything of that sort. I already had my fair share of killing, and I hate it. During my expansive life, I served as a medic. Might as well do what I did then and do my task of healing people instead of hurting them.

"And...Accepted." the manager mumbled as he read through my application. He gave the new uniform I was going to wear as a doctor-in-training. Solid White. My favorite fucking color of them all. I knew that it was going to be drenched in blood sooner or later. But, maybe being a doctor this time around won't be so bad. Of course, it could go horribly wrong in an instant. Based on how many of the Section 9 guys running around everywhere, I might have to swap bodies for one sooner or later.

Lucky me, I got treated an appartment from the manager since it stated that I had nowhere to go. Maybe it's just me, but nobody really seems too generous or offering anymore. Other than the manager, nobody greeted a simple "Hello." or "Good Evening." like I didn't exist or something. I don't know why people are so harsh now and days. Probably because of the sudden uprising in Cyber-Terrorism or because of the sudden influx of refugees, me included. I don't really want to think about it anymore because I think somebody might find this then try to look for me and shoot me.

If I may be right to make a simple assumption on how the world has changed in a whole, I can only say that we have gone straight to hell and we're trapped below. There's these random acts of violence that occur daily, the city always awake, making it impossible to sleep, and then there's the haunting past I have to wake to every day that also took over my job and my life. But, still, maybe I should do something other than this...

KNOCK! KNOCK! I heard outside of my door. When I opened the door, I saw the manager of the Hospital I'm now working for. He had some sort of suitcase with him, but I didn't know what was in it. He took it to my bedroom, then set his suitcase down on my bed and opened it up to reveal a Laptop. When he opened his Laptop, he revealed a lot of hacking software. When I saw it, I took it from his hands. It may be kinda greedy of me, but I want to see what it's like trying to fuck around a bit with Section 9. But, the only reason I needed the manager was his speedy fingers. To make sure he did what I wanted, I grabbed the gun I kept in my bag.

"Keep fucking typing," I'd growl whenever we would reach a blockade or a password. As soon as we reached the main files of one of their own, we simply took whoever it was, then ordered them to come to where we were, saying for them, "I gotta go home.". We watched through the other person's eyes as we noticed that Section 9 didn't give a fuck that whoever we were controlling was leaving for no reason whatsoever.

After a bit of spying on the city on the way here, our fun turned into my personal business. I got all the passwords to get in, I wrote them down as the manager entered them, easy enough. When my walking husk of a minion walked up to our room, he waited right behind the manager. Then I gave the order for it to fire. The husk, who happened to be a young man about my age, grabbed a semi-automatic handgun from his holster and shot the manager in the back of the head, blood oozing on the floor and a bit on the back of his laptop. I didn't care anymore. I went from being the good guy to a bad guy in one day, just to see who or what Section 9 is. For tonight, I deactivated the minion, then went to sleep. They would be expecting my message tomorrow.


	2. Violence

A Good Bad Guy

A Ghost in the Shell Fanfiction

Chapter 2: Violence

**NOTE: I DON'T OWN GitS OR ANYTHING OF THE LIKE!**

"You had to have it all, well have you had enough? You greedy little bastard you will get what you deserve..." was what I spent the morning listening to. Luckily, my minion won't be bothered by it, but the neighbors might. The worse that I can expect is a noise compaint and some old lady yelling at me to turn it down, which I do. I make myself seem like an average person, blending in. In the privacy of my own room, until I get caught with blood in my hands and a cyborg soldier at my side, I can do whatever I want. I can have a lot of fun with it, as well...

Every day gets easier and easier since I have myself a small entourage of droogs serving at my side. The routine is always the same. I wake up with the entourage. I arm my minion. I spy a little. I go out with my entourage to get some lunch. I go back home with them. I plan. I watch a sad movie with them. Then I plot more. Then I get myself some sleep. It only gets easier and easier each day. But, sometimes, I worry that I'm being watched. Maybe it's just me and my paranoia again.

Section 9 can't truly be blunt enough to see one of their employees suddenly go missing and have nothing on the news about him. He isn't dead, and they and I know that. I can't keep playing my game like this forever can I? I'm not as skilled as "The Puppet Master" or "The Laughing Man". But, then again, I wonder what alias they'd give me. Maybe they'd call me "The Body Thief" or "The Looney Doctor"? But, I don't want to really think of it. Hell, I bet they're watcing me as I say every word of this!

I don't think they'd want to break in, though. After all, I do have one of their guys as a hostage. I can just simply put in a "kill" command as though it was Garrys' Mod or something of that line. He's my toy and my mindless zombie until they restore him with his own brain again. I don't give up easy, so they know, and I'm not gonna let him escape easy. Maybe I can kill him when I get bored, then hide his body with that of the manager. All I have to do is deliver a simple headshot and destroy the brain. Then he's dead.

I don't entirely know why, but I want to be alone, just for today. It's still early, about 4:00 AM. Most other people are still asleep, other than the shady characters and hackers like me. Occasionally, I see some of them are armed, most likely spies from Section 9 keeping a good eye on us. Some of us were being followed. Others were just getting looked at by Snipers. I just wanted to go early-morning shopping. Section 9 just probably finds it as a great opportunity to jump me and get me possibly killed.

I look at the grocery store still standing. This is probably the last and closest touch to humanity I have left. The rest of it was either burned out from the war, or trapped in a dark, key-shaped hole stuck in the back of my mind. I call it my memories. I want them to all go away. But, some of these memories shouldn't or can't go away. I either need more sleep, or I need to get the hell out of here. I still don't understand what in my heart pulled me thus far out here. I feel like I have to stay, otherwise I'd be shot by the new dictator leading that of the American Empire.

All I need is some coffee, some Coffee Mate, milk, eggs, and some sugar. Luckily, the stuff I want isn't hard to come by. And it's all pretty cheap or optional. As I walked through the massive store, I keep thinking to myself that there's something watching me. Either it's some huge dude whom I would shit myself I saw in person, or some hot babe who can murder my ass in a heartbeat. If any of the agents whom heard me said what I just said, I should just shut up and get what I came for...

Thank god I finished fast! Now, I have to do the 1-mile run home... What to do to keep my bags safe? All I can think of is holding them onto my chest and running. So I might as well do that. They won't want to get a guy going shopping would they? So I start to run. I keep running and running to keep my strength built up, until I hear a pat-pat-pat behind my feet. Gunfire! So I run faster, but the firing gets faster and closer, until a shell rips into the back of my legs. I fall flat on my face, spilling my goods. I look up, kinda afraid about who shot me, then my vision is blurred, but I can hear perfectly. Muffled, all I hear is, "Batou, throw him the back of the truck. Don't kill him. Yet." The voice is female, is all I can tell. But then, it's all black...


End file.
